Morning

Morning. The days compose themselves Im greeted with piercing trills From the plastic woodwind section On my dresser. I slap the snooze button. It feels good. Reverberates like an 808 kick drum I roll out of bed. Slippers slide on like steel guitars. And shuffling my feet in swing rhythm, I amble about. That is until I realize Im late Mental adagio rhythms shift To a frantic allegro! I smack my coffee mug on the table. The coffee pot tinkles like chimes I wait in rapt anticipation, All throughout the percolation. My feet tap in rhythm to the falling drops, (Vans slap ceramic in frustration) Until completion. Cream, coffee, sugar, Meet in divine harmony As redolent smells tangle in midair. (A singular bead of saliva forms at the side of my mouth) Only a second to enjoy it before a new conductor urges me towards the door Allegro blends into presto into vivace And my keys clang in discord As the lock cracks and turns at breakneck speed. I burst into the hallway (Bounding, like kettle drums) Papers rustle, PLs yell! A janitor guffaws as my jacket (Hooked in one arm) Floats behind me. My feet slap the stairs in no particular rhythm, And I swear I hear a cymbal crash! as I Burst into sunlight. And now that thats out of the way The Journey. I face the sun, rising in slow crescendo And wipe the sweat beads off my forehead, (Tracing bar lines in perspiration)